Outbreak
by LizziXVI
Summary: Awakening in the hospital, you find your parents dead on the floor.Your fingers are like daggers. Your eyes constantly burning with tears. Sadness eating away at your very soul...What's happened to you Elfie? (Written a long time ago...considering a rewrite.)
1. Awakening

"Elfie? Can you hear me?" You open your eyes to a strange voice. It almost sounded like…growling. Your head

is throbbing a little bit, and you try to remember where you are. The last thing you remember is being in the

hospital in Savanna, Georgia. You'd had some kind of sickness, and your mother kept crying and your dad kept

saying that it was his fault. Something about an attack on the street. You didn't understand anything of what

they were talking about, but thought you'd go crazy if they didn't stop yelling at each other about whose fault it

was. You remember a doctor coming into the room and examining you. He opened your eye a little wider with

his thumb and forefinger and shined a light into it. Then, you'd lost control. The light was so painful, it seemed

to sear like a hot dagger straight to your brain. You remember screaming, and lashing out at the doctor, then at

your parents when they tried to get you off him. The entire ordeal was fuzzy in your mind now. You were on the

floor in your hospital room, you realized as you looked at the floor tiles. It was dark, almost pitch black. Your

pale blond hair was in your face a little bit, and as you raised your hand to brush it out of the way, what you

see scares you half to death. Long, red daggers are what your fingers have become. You gasp, and look

around. You see the dead bodies of your parents and the doctor on the other side of the room. Their blood

stains the floor in pools of dark liquid. Suddenly, sobs rise into your throat and you began to cry helplessly.

_"What have I done…?"_ you think. You then feel a hand on your shoulder and you look up, to see a figure, a boy,

in a hoodie. His hood is up, so you can't see his eyes, but you know, somehow, that you are making eye

contact. "It's going to be okay, Elfie. I promise." he says. Again, his voice sounds more like a growl than a voice,

but you sense no hostility in his tone. "W-who are you, exactly? And how do you know my name?" you ask. He

sits beside you on the cold hospital floor, and you see that he's wearing dark sweatpants, too, with duct tape

wrapped around his elbows and thighs. He gives you a soft smile and replies, "My name is Archer. And I know

your name because of your chart." He holds up a medical chart off your hospital bed. "Aelfin Cassina McGliffin.

Diagnosed with Green Flu." He glances up at you from the clipboard. "That's you, is it not?" You nod, and then

ask, "Why are you here?" He smiles at your troubled expression. "I'm here to protect you, Elfie. I'm here to

teach you how to live in this cruel world. I'm here so you won't have to hurt yourself anymore." The last eleven

words came out as a whisper, as he'd leaned over to you as he'd said them. You'd been slouching over, but

now you sit erect, your eyes wide with guilt and surprise. "How do you know abo—" you begin to ask. But he

just shakes his head and gently takes one of your arms in his hands. You both look down as he gently rubs the

concealer makeup off your wrists and forearms. "You can't fool me with makeup." He whispers. You feel a sob

catch in your throat as he slowly and gently traces the scars with his finger. "_It's more of a claw, actually."_ you

think idly to yourself. Not knowing what else to say, you choke out, "I'm sorry…" He looks up at you with a

mixed expression of surprise and concern at your apology. "You don't have to be apologize to me…I'd be a

hypocrite If I were angry with you." He wraps his arms around your thin body and holds you close to him.

"Geez…you're like ice…" he whispers and holds you tighter. You hadn't realized how cold you were until his

embrace surrounded you with warmth. "I'm sorry." You say, again. He chuckles and says, "Don't be. It's not

your fault." After a few minutes of silence, you gently pull away and stand up, your muscles having surprising

strength for being so thin. You walk to the window and gaze outside. You see countless infected people,

stumbling around, fighting amongst themselves, and retching on the sidewalk. You gasp, and go to draw your

hand to your mouth in shock, but when you see your hand again, you flinch away from it. You hold it to the pale

shimmer of moonlight coming in from the window and examine it. "What's happened to me?" you ask. Archer

walks up behind you and gently holds your hand in his own. "You were infected with the Green Flu. But…a

mutation occurred in your body, causing you to become what others call 'Special Infected.'" You glace at your

hands, then at his, seeing that his were gnarled and had claws like yours, but your fingers were like knives

compared to his. "Does this happen to everyone?" you ask. He shakes his head. "No. We're the rare cases of

the disease. The common infected- I mean, our lesser brothers and sisters, are the ones out there. They look to

us for guidance, for they _obviously_ cannot watch over themselves." You observe the infected outside, watching

them stumble and fight, like dogs over a scrap of meat. The thought of meat made your stomach growl. You

glace at your tummy and think at it, _"Shut up." _"They're like children…" You say, referring to the ones outside.

Archer shrugs. "I guess so. They certainly act like it sometimes. The other day, two of them were fighting over

who got to stand next to me when we attacked the survivors. I had to separate them just to get them to shut

up." he says, exasperated. You giggle at his expression, and he looks down to smile at you. "Why don't we go

outside? All you've seen for the past few weeks has been the inside of this room." he suggests. You nod, eager

to please. "Okay."

He takes your hand and gently leads you out of the hospital, and helps you down the numerous flights of stairs

since the elevators are broken. You look around at the infected around you. Some are dressed as nurses, and

some as surgeons in scrubs, with their white gloves still on their hands. You pass by hospital rooms, and crash

carts, but most of the defibrillators were taken from them. You walk by overturned biohazard bags that have

been torn, and paperwork is spread all over the floor. Somewhere at the nurses' station, the phone on the

counter rings. As you're walking down the hallway, suddenly you see a tall figure walk out of one of the rooms

ahead of you. He's wearing skinny jeans and a purple v-neck shirt, and converse shoes on his feet. But his

tongue is hanging out of his mouth, and it's long enough to make even Gene Simmons jealous. Half of his face

is obscured by bubbly-looking flesh, but the other half is slightly covered by black hair that's a little shaggy. He's

coughing horribly, as if one of his lungs is about to dislodge itself from his innards and come flying out his

mouth. He walks closer, and Archer shows no sign of alarm at his presence. However, as he comes closer, you

feel the tears well up in your eyes in fear. Silent sobs break free as the tears spill over, and yet he keeps

coming closer. Finally, you can't take it anymore, and an earth-shattering scream erupts from inside you, and

you rip your hand free of Archer's, and take off running in the opposite direction, away from the strange,

long-tongued thing. Blinded by tears, you can't see where you're running, but you just keep going as fast as

you can. You trip over an overturned plastic trash can, and you skid across the floor as you fall, screaming in

terror. Your arm scrapes against the sharp edge of a glass door, shattering it with a crash, and blood seeps

into your hospital gown and down your arm. You try to scoot away, but you only succeed in getting shards of

glass lodged in your arms and stomach. Whimpering with the sudden pain, blood begins to soak your

paper-thin gown. You don't move after that; you stay there, face down on the floor, and you just keep sobbing,

the salt water sliding through the dirt on your cheeks. A few of the common infected become aware of you, and

surround you protectively. You soon hear footsteps, the footsteps of a running individual. They're coming closer

to you, but you've lost all will to move. _"As long as it isn't thing horrible tongue thing…I'll be just fine…Please don't _

_let it be the tongue thing…Please…" _you plead silently. You hear the common infected around you give growls of

warning; something is approaching. All is silent for a moment, and you wonder if you were mistaken as to

someone's approach. Just as that thought passes through your head, a racking cough explodes from only a few

feet away. Your blood freezes in your veins and your heart seems to stop, then begin to pound as if you'd run a

marathon. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears still streaming from their corners. You sense the common infected

around you give way, and stumble along elsewhere as someone pushes them aside. You dare not open your

eyes, but instead await your doom. You tremble with fear and uncertainty, and the tears refuse to stop falling.

You hear a strange, new voice call to someone on the other side of the room. Not a low growl like Archer's

voice, but a throaty, dry sound. "Archer, I found her! She's over here…and she's bleeding." He kneels beside

you, and you open your eyes to stare at the boy. He gives you a smile, and gently picks you up, out of the

broken glass you were lying on. He puts you on a nearby stretcher, just as Archer pounces and lands next to

him, a worried expression on his features. "Is she okay?" he asks the tongue guy. "She's gotten herself into

quite a mess, but nothing a few stitches, gauze, and time can't fix." replies the tongue guy. Archer exhales in

relief, and then he turns to look at you. "Why did you run away?" he asks. You frown as the tongue guy pulls

glass out of your arms with a pair of forceps. You gasp and shudder, trying to form words. "H-he scares me…a

lot…" you manage to choke out. Archer's worried expression turns to one of surprise. "You mean Smokey? He

couldn't hurt a fly!" The tongue guy turned to glare at Archer. "That's not true! You're forgetting about that

horsefly I killed the other day!" he retorts. Archer grins. "I was only kidding, Smokey." The tongue guy shakes

his head, clearly exasperated, and resumes working on your injuries. "…Smokey?" you ask uncertainly. He looks

up and smiles. "That's not my real name, you know. My real name is Harvey. But you can call me Smokey if you'd

like." You find yourself smiling. "Okay, Smokey. I'm Aelfin, but you can call me Elfie. And…can I ask you a

question?" Smokey looks up from tying the gauze gently around your stomach to smile and say, "I think you

just did." You smile again briefly, but then ask, "Why do they call you Smokey?" He raises his eyebrows in

surprise. "Because I'm a Smoker." You blink. "You know, that's really bad for your health." He chuckles, and

then when he sees your incomprehension, gets a confused expression. "You really don't know?" You shake

your head, confused. "I don't know anything about what's happened here…except that I'm part of something

called the Special Infected." He turns to Archer. "You haven't told her what she is yet?" he exclaims. Archer

clenches his teeth for a second, and replies, "_No_, I haven't. I was _going_ to tell her when we got outside and she

could see what's happened to this place." Smokey blinks, about to argue further, and then considered his point.

"I suppose it wouldn't make much sense until she's seen everything for herself." he says. You prop yourself up

onto your elbows and ask, "Seen _what _for myself?" They both look at each other, then at you. "Elfie…what's

happened in Savanna…isn't just in Savanna."

-More Chapters Coming Soon! I Promise. Same for my End Of The World As We Know It Story.-

-Please Review! :D I want to know what you think of this so far.-


	2. The Hospital

"What do you mean, not just in Savanna? It's in other places, too!" you ask. Archer nods. "Yeah. It started in Pennsylvania, I think. Since then, Its gone to all 4 corners of the country." You wince as Smokey tightens some fresh gauze around a cut on your right arm. When he finishes that, he looks up to meet your gaze. "He's right. Supposedly, New Orleans is the only city left standing in America. Even the lonely town where I come from has been wiped clean." You let your breath out with a small _whoosh_. You take sight of your hands again and cringe away from the knives that you see. "Archer?" you ask, looking up at the hooded figure beside you. He glances down. "Yeah?" You wriggle a little, uncomfortable. "What am I, exactly…? And…what are you? I know that Smokey's a Smoker, but I don't understand." Just as Archer opens his mouth to answer, you hear gunfire from a floor below you. You gasp, and Smokey and Archer exchange looks. "Take her somewhere where they won't find her. Then, meet me back down here. We'll take care of them together." Archer says.

Smokey nods, a smile crossing his slightly distorted features. "You got it." He then glances a little embarrassedly at you. "I'm going to have to pick you up again. Is that okay?" he asks. You nod, and hold your arms out. He picks you up in a way that seems like a hug, and you wrap your arms around his neck, your legs around his small waist. After making sure you were secure and not going to fall, he goes down the hallway and up a few flights of stairs at a run. The power is off on this level. He takes you to an operating room, Operating Room B; according to the sign on the wall, and gently sets you down on the once sterile table. "Stay here. They won't find you here." he says. A sudden rush of questions bubbles up inside you. "Wait! _Who_ won't find me! Who's looking for me?" But Smokey was already gone, leaving you in the cold operating room alone in the dark.

Feeling more lonesome than ever before, you sit and do as you were told. You hear gunfire from below you, the unease creeping into your bones._ "What if Smokey gets hit? Or Archer? What would I do?" _the questions tumble restlessly inside your brain as the minutes dragged on. Every second seemed like an hour, every hour a day, and every day an eternity. You begin to get cold, and you tuck your legs up under you to keep warmer. The loneliness and the utter silence are nearly overwhelming, and soon you begin to cry helplessly again. Your hair is in your face again, but you don't care. You're rocking back and forth, tears streaming down your face, sobs echoing in the operating room. You hear footsteps outside, and your sobs continue. _"They've found me, whoever they are. And now they're going to kill me, too…",_ you think. You hear a voice outside the door.

"Shh! Listen! Someone's still alive in there." It was an older man speaking, and by the sound of it, he was a big guy. He sounded almost like her old health teacher. Another guy was speaking now, a little younger, but clearly an adult. He sounded weathered, as if he really didn't give a flying fuck about anything. "I don't know, Coach. Sounds risky to me. Let's just keep going." Then the man called 'Coach' says, "No, Nick. I refuse to leave a young woman in a mess like this! She must be terrified!" "Whatever. It can't be worse than that Pouncy-thing we ran into earlier. I thought that thing would NEVER die.", came the reply. A moment of panic crossed you as the door to the operating room slowly opens. Your sobs quiet into sniffles as you look up at the big figure entering the room. "Hey there…Don't worry. We're gunna get ya out of here. Don't cry. It's okay." Said the man as he walked closer. You feel threatened as he comes closer and closer into your personal space. The power flickers for a moment, and the lights reveal you to them. "Witch!" the other man, Nick, whispers. "Coach! Get outta there!" Another man, much younger than the other two, pops his head into the doorway. "Aw, a Witch!" he says, clearly fascinated by you, "She's pretty." "Shut up, Ellis." Says Nick. "Okay, but she _is_ pretty."

If Coach hadn't been so in your personal space like that, you would have been flattered by the young man's comment. Coach seemed to recognize you. "Elfie? Is that you? Oh, dear God…I'm so sorry, Elfie. You were such a good student of mine. Always on time. Always did your homework. A real shame you have to be put through this…I'll pray for ya, honey." Coach was slowly trying to back away. A woman was running up from behind them, with 2 bottles of pills in her hands. "HEY GUYS! PILLS HERE!" she shouts. You glance up angrily at the loud noise. A growl emits from your throat. The woman, still clearly unaware of what was going on, runs up with her flashlight. "What're you guys looking at?" she asks, and shines the light onto you, flooding your eyes with the bright LCD beams. A scream tears from your throat as you stand up, and take off towards the woman who'd dare to shine a light in your face, knocking Coach, Nick, and Ellis out of your way. You chase the woman down the hall, still screaming. She tries to shoot you with her pistol, but misses the first time, and the second time it hits you in the arm, only making you madder, and causing you to pick up speed. You hear the familiar cough of Smokey as you run by him, hot on the woman's heels. You reach out with your arm and slash at her with your razor sharp fingers. She falls, and you stand over her, slashing with all your might. She dropped her pistol, and now she was at your mercy, screaming at your feet. After a few moments of you ripping her to shreds, all life was released from within her. She died, still screaming. Blood and gore staining your hands, you run away as fast as you can from her dead body, hiding in a closet you find a floor below. You hear the other people find her body upstairs. "Oh, Rochelle…you were a good girl." "Good girls don't survive long in an Apocalypse, Coach." "Rochelle…I'll keep ya in my prayers.", came the voices. You feel guilty for a moment, and then you remember how she so rudely shined that light directly into your eyes. _"Stupid girl."_ you think, _"She deserved to die."_

"Elfie! Elfie, where are you?" came calls down the hallway. You poke your head out of the door of the closet, knocking over a broom. "Oops…I'm right here!" you answer, trying to pick up the broom. As you step out of the closet, your other hand hits a mop bucket, causing it to fall over, too. As it fell over, it knocked 2 other brooms, a swiffer, and a squeegee. "OH, COME ON!" you growl, glaring at the ceiling, aggravated. You hear laughter from behind you, and turn, embarrassed, to see Smokey and Archer, completely unharmed. "Archer! You're okay!" you cry delightedly, running towards him. Smokey laughs at your reaction. "What, you thought a couple of inexperienced survivors were going to take him down? Well. I'm gunna see how Vivian and Malcolm are downstairs. Catch you later, Arch."

He walks out, and you throw your arms around Archer's neck. He returns the embrace, and runs his hand up and down your back affectionately. "What's wrong?" he asks. "I was so scared…" you whisper. He gives you a look that clearly says, "Why?" You glance at the floor. "One of the survivors was talking about coming across a Pouncy-thing downstairs…he'd killed it." Archer blinks, uncomprehending."Pouncy…thing?" "I…I thought it was you…" you finish. Tears of relief and embarrassment drift down your cheeks. His cheeks turn a faint pink. "You don't have to worry about me, Elfie. I'll be fine, just like I always am." He tilts your chin up with his finger and smiles. "Smile for me." He says. A frown sticks to your face. "Pleeeeeeeease?" he asks again, puppy-pouting. Your lips twitch. "You have forced me into my last alternative…." He says in a dark voice. You look at him, confused. He then grabs you by the waist and puts you against the wall. "TICKLE TORTURE!" he screams, laughing, and tickles you. You are _extremely_ ticklish. It's always been your weakness, ever since you were little. You burst out laughing, trying to get him to quit. Eventually he does, and your face hurts from smiling too much. "You're silly." You tell him.

He grins. You look around. "Where'd Smokey go?" "Downstairs." You suddenly remember something. "Archer?" He looks at you, eyebrows raised, a clear cue to ask whatever you're going to ask. "The survivors…they called me a Witch." He nodded somberly. "Yeah…That's what they call people who mutate the way you did." You glance at your hands. "I figured. What are you?" you ask. "I am awesome. That's what I am." He replies, grinning. You lightly punch him on the shoulder. "You know what I meant!" You both laugh, and then he says, "They call me a Hunter. It fits, no? Much better than being called a 'Pouncy-Thing.'" You find yourself giggling. "You'll always be a Pouncy-Thing to me, Archer." He smiles. "C'mon. Let's go downstairs. There's a few peopl—_Zombies_, that I'd like you to meet."


	3. New Friends and A Little Green Flame

Archer leads you down the stairs and into the hospital lobby. "I'll be right back. Stay here, okay?" he says. You

nod, and he crouches and launches himself outside. You look around the lobby, and the uncomfortable chairs

are all toppled over except for a few in the corner. The floor is covered with worn out burgundy carpet. You see

a small, hunchbacked, fidgety man talking to some female infected in the corner. Having nothing to do, and your

curiosity piqued, you listen in to their conversation.

"So that's why I decided to invest my stocks in Wells-Fargo."

"Malcolm. We know you're not that smart."

"Besides, Frank the Tank tried to pull the same trick on us the other day."

"Come on ladies, let's find someone worth talking to."

All three of the infected females stand up and walk out with impressive zombified grace. The little guy jumps out

of his chair, trying to get them to come back. He's jumping up and down, literally. "Oh, come on, girls! Come

back! Please!" You giggle at his silly and unsuccessful actions. He turns to glare at whoever dared to make fun

of him, but before the glare had even fully crossed his twisted features, he stared in shock at you. He then

smiled a devilish grin. "Why hello there, Miss. Were you just listening to that conversation?" He hobbles over,

still smiling and laughing hysterically, as if he's sharing a private joke with you. You instinctively back up a step,

but he keeps coming closer. "Uhm…" is all that comes out of your mouth. He keeps hobbling, smiling, and

laughing closer and closer to you, and you keep backing up. Finally, you hit a wall. You look down at the little

man with a small display of fear and revulsion. "I was thinking…" he says, "Should _we_ have a conversation,

too?" Before you can reply, you hear a strange scream. It drives fear into your heart, and the little guy turns

around to face whatever it is, and he's then pounced by…Archer? "Stay away from her, creep." He growls to

the little man. The little man was now practically sweating with fear. "I-I'm sorry, Archer, Sir! I didn't know she

was off limits!" Archer glares at him, and then climbs off. "Now you do. If you, or any of your little friends so

much as _THINK_ about touching her, they're as good as dead. Do I make myself clear?" he says in a dangerously

low voice. The little hunchback does a clumsy salute, and stammers, "Yes sir! I'll tell them right away! No one's

gunna mess with her, no, no! Don't you worry, you can count on me, Sir!" He then runs out of the room with

surprising speed for such a little…thing. "Stupid Jockey." Archer mumbles. You cast your eyes to the floor.

"Thanks for saving me…Again. …I'm sorry I get into so much trouble…" Archer looks up at you, and all the anger

that had been plastered on his face when he'd faced that Jockey melted away. He shakes his head. "No, don't

apologize. It's not your fault. He's just a perv… I guess it's natural with being a Jockey." He puts his arms

around you. "Besides. I like protecting you. It's what I do." You feel the blood rush to your cheeks. "It's nice

knowing that someone cares about me…" you whisper into the dark fabric of his hoodie. He pulls away to kiss

your forehead. "I'll_ always_ care about you. Forever." You blush a deeper red, and then he takes your hand and

says, "The people- er, _Zombies_, I want you to meet are outside. Come on."

He leads you outside. The sun is setting, casting the land into a violet and red twilight. You look at the small

group of zombies before you. A big, round, and green zombie wearing a once white t-shirt, jean shorts, and

Vans shoes steps forward and holds out his hand. "I'm Chuck. The Boomer." He says. You shake his hand,

careful not to stab him with your claws. "I'm Elfie. The Witch. And I like your shoes." You reply. He smiles

warmly. "It'll be nice to have a new person join the group. Especially one that's so polite!" You smile back. The

guy was likable. He seemed like a regular guy in America; Football on TV, eats barbeque in the summer, and

loves life. Smokey waves at you. You wave back. "You already know me." Smokey says, but holds his hand out

anyway. You shake it, still smiling. "Indeed I do, Smokey. But it's nice to meet you all the same." you say. The

next zombie you see seems to have a bad case of acid reflux disease. She smiles nonetheless, and offers you

her hand. You shake it. "My name's Vivian. The Spitter." She says. You smile back. "Elfie. The Witch." You reply,

again. You glance down at the little man again, for he was next in line. "I'm sorry we got off to a bad start,

miss. My name's Malcolm. The Jockey." He seemed as if it was taking all his willpower not to burst out laughing

and run in circles like a lunatic. "Hi, Malcolm. I'm Elfie, and apology accepted." you reply, eager to move along to

the next zombie. This guy has a huge arm. You resist the urge to raise an eyebrow at it, and a thought crosses

your mind. _"Maybe he's compensating for something."_ you think to yourself, swallowing the urge to laugh. The

guy has a really deep voice. It booms from above you. "My name's Dan. The Charger." You nod, seeing as he

can't shake hands. "I'm Elfie." He smiles. "Nice to meet ya, little one. You might have to put some meat on those

bones of yours. Otherwise, you could get pummeled. By an unwary Charger." he says kindly. You smile back.

"I'll work on it." you promise.

You glance back at Archer, who is studying a roly poly on the ground absentmindedly.

You cough, attempting to get his attention. He's still lost in his own world. You try again. No response from

Archer. You glance at the other infected for help. They all grin. Dan and Malcolm come up to you

and whisper. "You should attack him. Not to hurt him, but to scare the hell out of him." Dan says. A grin creeps

over your face. "Yeah, yeah! You should jump on his back and don't let go!" says Malcolm excitedly. "That's your

thing, though." You say. He shakes his head. "I give you permission to use my move on him. Now go! This could

be very funny to see." He says, clearly holding back his maniac laughter. You grin at them both, and then

silently creep up behind Archer. You launch yourself onto his back, wrapping your arms and legs around him. He

yelps in surprise, and jumps up onto a nearby building in shock. You hand on for your dear life, laughing with

the other infected on the ground. Archer turns his hooded head to look at you. You giggle at his expression

when he realizes it's you. "You scared me!" he cries. You're still giggling. "I'm sorry, Archer! B-but you should've

seen your face!" You manage to say before you burst into another fit of giggles. He sighs in exasperation and

shakes his head. "It can't be _that_ funny." You climb down off him so that you can hold your sides, for you fear

they're going to split open. "It was! It was!" you cry. He crosses his arms. "I disagree." He says. You put your

hands on your hips. "Well, I don't." you reply. He's glaring at the ground now. You step forward and tilt his chin

up so you can kiss him on his left cheek. He brings his hand to where you kissed him and his eyes go wide, his

cheeks red. You smile.

-Meanwhile-

"Look at those two. Arguing like they're married." Says Vivian. They watch Elfie and Archer go at it for a few

minutes, leading to crossed arms and hands on hips. "I swear. Those two are crazy." Says Dan. They all nod,

still smiling. "I think she's good for him, though." Says Smokey. They all turn to look at him. "He hasn't smiled

this much in forever. I don't think I've ever seen him so happy as he is when he's with her." He continues.

Chuck nods. "He does seem to lighten up a bit when she's around, eh?" They all nod, and Vivian says, "His

temper seems to have died down a bit, too. She's really sweet. I like her a lot. I think she'll be good for all of us

in some way." Again, they all agreed. They turned their eyes back to the roof to see Elfie tilt Archer's chin up

and kiss him on his cheek. A unanimous "AWWWWW!" occurred.

Smokey watches as Archer puts her onto his back and takes her down off the roof. A small green flame of

jealousy burns in his gut. He mentally kicks himself and tells himself to knock it off. "My best friend is the

happiest I've ever seen him, even when we were human. I should be happy for him, too…even if my own

feelings must remain a secret for the sake of his happiness…"

-Please Review! Please. :D-


	4. Dismemberment Plan

"This is where I live." Archer says as he leads you into the apartment along with Smokey. "Er, correction, where _WE_ live." says Smokey. Archer grins. "My bad. Where _WE_ live." he says. Smokey kicks a sock underneath a rug and says, "You're welcome to stay here, too, if you want. We have 3 bedrooms." Archer turns to you and nods in agreement. "Yeah, you can stay here if you want to. As long as you don't mind a bit of a mess." He says, rubbing the back of his neck. Growing up in a rundown condominium with your parents never being around makes this place seem like a castle in your opinion. "It's wonderful!" you tell them. "But…I don't want to burden you two…" Smokey and Archer shook their heads. "You wouldn't be a burden!" says Archer. Smokey chimes in, "We'd love to have you here. You're like family. We can't just leave you out there." You beam at them. "You guys are so nice…what did I ever do to deserve you?" you ask to no one in particular. They both smile back at you, and lead you down the hallway to your room. It had obviously been a teenage girl's room previously, for the bedspread is pink, the pillows are fuzzy, and there are girl's clothes in the closet. You find a white tank-top and grey cotton shorts.

Smokey and Archer leave you alone for a second so that you can change out of the ruined hospital gown you've been in for the past few days. You smile as the new clothes fit nicely. You walk over to the mirror in the room, and brush your hair with a brush you found on the desk. You're still barefooted, but that doesn't matter. You walk out of the room and into the hallway, out into the den when Smokey and Archer were sitting on the couch, talking about something. They look up to see you, looking a lot better than before. They smile. "Come here and sit down." Archer says, gesturing to a cushion on the couch. You plop next to him. "Thank you for letting me be here, guys…Just give me the word if you ever want me out, for any reason. I don't want to be a burden at all." Smokey shakes his head in wonder and ruffles your hair. "You're not going to be a burden. Relax. And why on earth would we want you out?" You shrug, embarrassed. Archer looks into your blue eyes, seeming to search for something in their depths. You gaze back into his dark green irises, feeling yourself nearly get swallowed by their vastness. You look away quickly, sensing Smokey's staring. Archer snaps out of his trance, too. "I'm not gunna lie, guys. That was kinda creepy." Smokey says, the barest trace of a smile on his lips. Archer gently shoves him. "Shuddup, Smokey. Don't be jealous." He's kidding, but Smokey sighs inwardly. _"If only it were that easy, Archer."_ he thinks. "Jealous? Of you? You flatter yourself, my friend." he replies. "Burrrrrrn." You say, eyebrows rising at Smokey's wit.

Archer laughs, shaking his head. Smokey smiles. "Ah. I remember what we were going to talk about." says Smokey. "Oh yeah. Forgot about that." says Archer. "Hm?" you ask. Archer licks his lips. "We have to take you to see Frank." he says. You raise your eyebrows. "The Tank?" Smokey looks at you and cocks his head sideways. "Do you know him?" he asks. "No," you admit, "But I heard some female infected talking about him." Archer's lips pull into a smile. "He does love the ladies." Smokey elbowed him in the ribs. "Like you don't?" he accuses. Archer turned to him. "Lemme correct you on that one. I love _a_ lady. Not the plural form of the word." Smokey grins. "Of course. My mistake." You raise an eyebrow at Archer. He stands up. "Well. Frank'll be expecting us by the end of the day, and seeing as its 4 o'clock, we should get going." Smokey also stands. "I agree. Let's get moving."

You all arrive at Frank the Tank's house in a few minutes of walking. It's an average house, except for the blown-off-the-hinges door. "How are we supposed to knock…?" you ask. Smokey shrugs. Archer goes and yells up at the 2nd floor open window. "HEY! FRANK! WE'RE HERE!" You blink twice rapidly, and then look up at Smokey. "That was subtle." Smokey facepalms. "That's Archer for you. He's never been very patient except when it comes to hunting." You grin at the hooded figure still standing in front of the house. A humongous figure comes out of the blown away doorframe. He's extremely muscular, and looks like he can wreak some serious damage. "Hi, Frank." says Archer. Frank nods in his direction, and then looks beyond him to look at you. You immediately feel like a bug under a microscope as his gaze runs you up and down. You put your chin up, and shoulders back, defiant to his critical gaze. He nods thoughtfully, as if coming to a decision. "Does she know how to hunt yet?" he asks. Archer shakes his head. "Not yet." The Tank rolls his massive shoulders. "Well. According to my scouts, Survivors should be passing through the Sugar Mill today. Now's a good a time as any to teach her." Archer nods. "I'll teach her." Smokey steps forward. "Me, too." Frank looks at them both, and then nods. "Alright. She's your responsibility to teach." Smokey and Archer nod.

"Do you have a name, Witch?" Frank asks, turning his gaze to you. "My name is Elfie." you reply. "Well, Elfie, It's time for you to learn how to hunt. Judging by your features, I'd say you're close to starving, am I right?" Right when he mentioned the word 'starving', your stomach growled in assent. "Yes…sir." you say, unsure of how to respond to him. A ghost of a smile crosses his lips. "Well then. You should probably get started. Sun's going down, and that's when it's time for our kind to feed." You grin. "Okay." Frank turns to Archer and says in a low voice that no one else can hear, "Protect her, Archer. We can't afford to lose another Witch, especially one like this. Her character…it's different from the other Witches. I think that will make her stronger. Don't let some survivor take her from us with a blow to the head from a shotgun. Remember what happened to Serah…" his voice trails off, sadness entering his tone. Archer puts a hand on Frank's massive shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll protect her. And as for Serah…she'd want you to be happy, Frank. She knew what she was doing when she went out alone that far. She knew what could happen. Don't blame yourself." he replies softly. Frank nods sadly, "I wish she were here…" Archer claps him on the shoulder. "I do, too man. But it's not meant to be. Let's see what Elfie can bring to the table, and then you can judge where to station her." Frank nods, his thoughts returning to the present. "Right. Go, teach her how to hunt. And keep what I said in mind." he instructs. Archer salutes, grinning. "Will do."

"Archer? What is this place…?" you ask, walking into the abandoned sugar mill. "It smells really good in here." you continue. He looks at you, confused, and then sniffs the air. "I don't smell anything." he says. "It smells….sweet." you tell him, "It's intoxicating!" He grins. "Just try not to get too drunk off the apparent fumes. You've gotta learn how to hunt." Your stomach growls hungrily. "Shut up." You say to it, poking your tummy with your knuckle of your index finger. Archer takes a few steps ahead of you, and says, "You're a Witch. You can choose to do one of two things. You can, one, sit and cry and wait for the survivors to come to you, or, you can cry and wander around, looking for them." You nod. "I think I'll do the first one." you say. He nods. "Okay. First you need to hide until the survivors are at their most vulnerable. You can be the judge of that, but we have a plan that works nearly every time for a group of survivors. They usually travel in groups of 4. So here's how the plan works." You sit, crosslegged on the ground as Archer explains the plan.

"First, we wait in hiding for a survivor to lag behind and get separated. I pounce him. A survivor runs back to help him, and that's when Smokey comes in." You glance up at Smokey. "I grab him with my tongue and strangle him from a rooftop." says Smokey. You turn your attention back to Archer as he starts to speak again. "The other two survivors come running for their companions, and Chuck steps out and pukes all over them. Then, Malcolm drags away one of the survivors while it's blinded, and either incapacitates it, or drags it to you. The horde should be attacking the other survivor while this is happening, so that survivor won't see as Dan charges through and pummels it. Vivian spits her acid on either of the remaining 2 survivors." Your eyes widen. "That's….extremely well thought out." You say, finally. Smokey steps forward. "Although, there is a problem sometimes." he says. "What sort of problem?" you ask. "Sometimes Malcolm misses and the Survivor gets free. Sometimes my tongue gets shot and breaks, releasing the survivor. But! That's where you come in, again. If close enough to a safe room, the survivor in question will run immediately for it, abandoning his comrades. You can sit right in front of the safe room door. They'll never be able to get into the safe room without startling you." he explains. You smile. "I feel important." Smokey nods seriously. "You _are_ important. Now. Frank said that the survivors should be coming in around nightfall. They're aiming to go get gas so they can escape on their boat." You nod. "Okay. So I need to be hidden before the sun goes down." Archer smiles. "Precisely." You look up to see the sun is steadily sinking. "I'd best go then…see you guys later!" you cry over your shoulder, already running to find a place to hide.

**[There's going to be more, I promise. I'm writing it now... (: In the meantime, will you please review this story?]**


	5. Archer's POV

**Woah! This is completely unacceptable of me. I'm so sorry, my dear readers. It's been far to long since I've updated. I am SOOOOO sorry. Forgive me? :3**

**Well, this is the long awaited chapter, told from the view of our favorite Hunter, Archer. (: Please enjoy and review when you're done. Give me some ideas, please. I'll read all of them, and use as many as I can.**

**Alandria Cruxel; thanks for sticking with me this whole time. (: I hope you'll stick around for more.**

**Tori: Thanks for the review, dahhling. I hope this story still gives you butterflies. :P**

**Star: I'm glad you like it so far! :] I'll be sure to let Archer know that you're pleased. This is all his idea, you know. XD  
**

**NOW, ENJOY~ :D**

-Archers POV-

I've never really understood the other Hunters when they'd talked about finding "their Witch." It had always confused me. How could the strongest, bravest, smartest and altogether greatest of Hunters crumble at a crying girl's feet? A few weeks ago, Witches never really meant all that much to me. I just carried out my orders from Frank, and spent time with my best friend and roommate, Smokey. Blake, another Hunter, used to be my idol since the day I woke up as a special infected. He'd taken care of me, taught me how to hunt, how to pounce, and how to be the stealthiest creature of the human imagination. That is all good and well, until one day he never showed up to the Hunter Clan meeting. That isn't like him. He always told me, "Being 'on-time' is late. Always meet your mark early." I'd looked up to him as I had no other. He is the best "brother" anyone could hope for. He kept skipping out on meetings, and he never came to talk to me anymore. In fact, I hadn't seen him in weeks. I began to get worried. Finally, I asked around to see what is going on with him. All I'd heard is that he'd found "his Witch." And all the older Hunters groaned with envy. "He's so lucky." They'd say. "What I wouldn't give to find MY witch."

I hadn't understood. What is so special about the sniffling young girls that sat in the dark? I knew that they had the strength to take down even Tanks by themselves, but that they were always so sad. Who would want to hang around a weeping sack of depression like that? Not me, certainly. I asked Cody, one of the older Hunters what everyone meant by "their witch." He'd explained that for every Hunter out there, there is a Witch to match him. No one could really explain why, but Hunters and Witches were naturally attracted to each other once they became infected. Unless they were gay or bisexual, of course. Then they might end up with a Smoker. I'd pondered those thoughts all day, wondering where MY witch is, if I even had one. I'd decided that I was going to search for Blake. Later that night when I was running patrol, I'd found Blake, with a Witch in his arms. He cradled her like she was the most precious thing he'd ever seen. She didn't look all that great to me, being brutally honest. But the way she looked at him as well…it is enchanting. I'd instantly felt a stab of envy and anger in my stomach. This is so unfair. He is my brother in all but blood, and there is that crying…THING, taking him away from me. I remember screaming my Hunter-cry, and leaping as far away from there as I could before I broke down on the street. Smokey had found me then, in the worst state I'd ever been in in my life. I'd been sobbing myself, wondering why this would happen to me. My life had never been good, especially as a human. My dad had never been around, and my mom was working the hardest her body would let her, just so she could put some sort of food on the table. In school I was a natural athlete, with many colleges interested in me because of my track, cross country, and soccer records. However, in academics I struggled, especially with algebra. I could never quite get the formulas to work for me as the other kids could. My teachers had complained about me not putting forth the effort. Bah. Not like any of that mattered now, I'd thought. Blake is gone, and I had no home to return to. Smokey had taken me to Frank, and Frank had been kind to me, offering me a chance in his rapidly growing army. I'd taken it gratefully, earning my keep and climbing in rank. I was now one of the top most skilled Hunters in the entire city of Savanna. I couldn't help preening a little by adding a little extra duct tape to my elbows and thighs. I'd been best friends with Smokey ever since, and I'd never thought to bring up the "Hunters-fall-in-love-with-witches-against-their-own-will" thing. But now, as I watch Elfie run off into the shadows of the Sugar Mill to hide, I felt as if a part of me is being ripped in two as I realized that I couldn't keep her completely in my sight if our plan is to succeed. I felt my heart wrench at outcome of it not working. Elfie could be hurt, maybe even killed. I'll never be able to live with that. I'd rather jump off the burning bridge and drown myself than live in a world without her.

"She's a cool Witch." Smokey comments. I glance up at my friend. "Yeah…she really is…" I answer, not completely there. My mind is still spinning with images of Elfie smiling, the sound of her laughter, the feel of her soft lips on my cheek's skin… Then I see Smokey's hand waving in front of me. "Earth to Archer…Hello, is anyone at home?" he says. "We have work to do…" he continues in the same mocking tone. I slapped his hand out of my face. "I know, I know." I grumble. "Go onto that rooftop. That's the best cover." I say, pointing to the battered roof of the Decatel Sugar Mill. Smokey eyes where I pointed, and nods. "Alright. See you soon." He says, and then goes over to the wall, and climbs up all the way to the top, and onto the roof. I glance over and see Vivian and Malcolm hiding in the shadows. I hear Malcolm's mad laughter. I quietly glare in his direction. _"He's such a noob…he's going to get us seen." _I think as my glare pierces into the darkness. He grins back at me when he catches my eye. I shake my head and lower into a crouch, pouncing a good 60 feet in the air to hide inside a dark building. Concentrating, my senses turn to the utmost degree, and I can hear as the survivors enter the sugar mill. The others noticed as well, and they slid into hiding.

We watched as the survivors rounded the bend and up the ramp, dodging the common infecte- excuse me, our lesser brothers and sisters. I shake my head again as they throw a pipe-bomb and our little siblings run after it like hungry dogs after a juicy steak. They always fell for the trap. ALWAYS. It had really started to bug me, but then again, the horde can never truly be relied upon anyway. Too easily distracted, apparently. Finally, the survivors went past an abandoned mobile home, getting separated as a gangly teen stopped to pick up extra ammo while the others moved on. My cue, obviously. I settled into a crouch again, blending in with the shadows easily. A growl emitted from my throat, and the boy searched around frantically, knowing that a Hunter is around. He paled as he realized that his friends were a long way away, farther into the mill. Just as he started to run, I screeched and soared out the broken window from my hiding place. He barely had time to turn to face me before I is on him, slashing at him with all my strength as he screams for help from his companions. Just as predicted, one of his friends came running back to assist the fallen survivor. She's a young girl, looking barely fifteen yet she held a shotgun and I know she knows how to use it. Just as worry begins to claw at my own stomach, I vaguely see Smokey's tongue shoot out from the rooftop above, strangling the young girl who had run back to help the boy. "T-tyler! I'm…choking! I can't…breathe! I can't breathe! Oh God! I'm down!" she screams. Sure enough, the other two survivors came sprinting to assist their friends. One's a pale skinned boy, young as well, and had black hair and is wearing skinny jeans and a "The Rocket Summer" t-shirt. "ELIZABETH!" he screams, running for the girl being choked by Smokey. Chuck steps out from the shadows and barfs all over him and the other survivors before he could reach the girl, who is now turning blue from lack of oxygen. Malcolm's mad laughter rings out nearby, and grabs onto the black haired boy survivor, dragging him away. Elizabeth reaches her hand out in vain. "Michael…" she chokes, and then falls unconscious. Everything is going just as planned. I then hear a wild yell from my far right, and the other survivor, another boy, this one of African American nature, was blown back by a charge from Dan, and then is pounded into the ground again and again. "KEON!" the one called Michael, screams, still being dragged away by Malcolm. Vivian steps out of the darkness, and spits on all the survivors in her range. They scream in agony. The one that I've been clawing at finally stops screaming, and stops struggling against me. He slumps, dead. The girl, Elizabeth chokes her last breath as well, and Keon gives a final scream before giving into Death's cold embrace.

-Michael's POV-

"GET OFF! GET OFF GET OFF GET OFF!" I scream, thrashing at the thing that's dragging me god-knows-where. I suddenly hear the strangest sound. It sounds like…crying? A cold stone of fear drops into my stomach as I realize what the sound is. I scream louder, trying even harder to get the thing off of me. But I'm too late. When I finally get a peek at where I'm going, I see the crying girl right in front of me, directly in my path. "No! NO! NO NO NO NO NO! Please no! Oh, God! HELP ME!" I find myself pleading in utter terror at the small, thin girl sobbing only a few feet away now. She begins to growl, her blood red eyes glaring up at me. I feel tears of terror well up in my eyes as well. We'd had another companion, one of my best friends, die because of a Witch like this one. Her name was Chastity. I remembered the scene of Chastity getting slaughtered by the Witch. Now the same thing was going to happen to me. She stood up shakily, her clawed hands out by her side, spread like wings. One glance at the daggers scared my half to death, causing my knees to weaken. She's growling a lot fiercer now. She suddenly lets out a bloodcurdling scream, and makes a beeline straight for me, an inhuman rage gleaming in her eyes. I screamed, but couldn't resist against the Jockey on my back. She slashed out at me, the Jockey finally getting knocked off of me. The long red daggers were slicing into me then, and I screamed for as long as I could, but suddenly, the pain starts to ease…everything feels warm and light, like I'm on a cloud or something. It's nice. I don't want to leave here. I feel my spirit detach itself from my ruined body, and I float away towards the light of the now rising sun like a balloon.

-Archer's POV-

All the survivors are dead. _Time to eat_, I think hungrily. I ran over to where Elfie is sitting, sobbing a little. I wrap my arms around her. "It's okay, Elfie. I'm here." I croon. She glances up at me, and then buries her face in my shoulder. "H-he was so s-scared, Archer…he b-begged for mercy…but I lost control…" she whimpers. I rub her back affectionately, cradling her in my arms. "He's in a better place now, Elfie. No human deserves to live in a hellhole like this." I say, still using a soft, comforting voice. She looks up at me again, her once red eyes now back to their usual, enchanting crystal blue. "You think so?" she asks. I lean down and kiss her forehead. "I know so." I respond, hugging her a little closer to me. I have a revelation then. I love her. I truly do. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but I love her with more than my entire being. I'd do anything to make her happy, to keep her safe. She's my true love and I know it. I kiss the top of her head. _My_ Witch.


	6. Traitors and Temptations

**I'm sorry I've taken so long! School, ya know? It's a hassle. T.T**

**Anyway. I hope you enjoy this short bit. I'm writing more, ASAP.**

**But this is just to satisfy some of your curiosity. Please, keep the ideas coming!**

**I know how the story will end, but I need help filling in the details up onto that point.**

**Thanks! :D**

**Now Enjoy! (:  
**

You walk into the abandoned house after Archer, letting him lead the way. You've been tailing the survivors for a few hours now, waiting for one to fall behind. Smokey's on the roof, waiting for someone to be victimized by his tongue. You creep silently through the house, your bare feet making no noise on the worn and bloodstained carpet. Suddenly you hear an earsplitting screech. Archer and you both cringe for a moment at the unexpected noise, and then hear the synchronized uproar of your lesser brothers and sisters. You jump out of the way just in time as they file through the house, rushing blindly towards their target. There are only 2 survivors this time; unlucky fools. You hear gunfire answer your siblings' cries. You catch Archer's eyes from behind the shadow of his hoodie. "Now?" you ask, not worrying about being heard in all the commotion. "Yeah." He agrees, and inclines his head once. Inwardly you sigh. You hate it when he's like this. Strictly business, no emotion whatsoever. He settles into a crouch and launches out the door. You feel the tears sting in your eyes, and begin to follow behind him. Suddenly, something shoots out from overhead, and grabs one of the survivors as they try to reload. She screams, and is dragged back towards you. You look up at the roof of the building, and Smokey winks at you, smiling. You smile back, and realize that this kill is all his. You stumble along, searching for the other survivor. Archer crouches in the dark corner of a house that the other survivor, a male, had fled into. A growl rips from his throat as he readies himself to pounce. At that very moment, you walk into the room, sobbing. The survivor shrieks, and then covers his mouth with his hand as he slowly backs himself up. You glance up at him with glowing red eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks. The terror reflected in the boy's eyes is indescribable as you stumble closer. Archer doesn't see you there, and lets the blood pump into his legs, ready to pounce at a seconds notice. Suddenly, a strange cry is heard from across the hall. "KARMAAAAAA!" it screams, and then the survivor is pummeled outside. At that very moment as Dan charged through, Archer had pounced, and you had stepped forward to swipe at the survivor. Archer lands on top of you, and you go down, arms outstretched, eyes wide.

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, your face growing uncomfortably hot. Archer stares down at you in shock. Neither of you able to say anything, you simply stare at each other. You feel his breath on your face, he's so close to you. Closer than he's ever been before. He smells like pine needles and Gain laundry detergent, but already its intoxicating.

-Archer's POV-

She's under me, her pale face staring in shock back up at me. Her cheeks begin to redden, why? I can't believe I landed on her…is she hurt? Doesn't look like it… Her beautiful blue eyes are sparkling so brightly in the dimly lit room. She seems to glow. I can feel her heartbeat increase in speed with every breath I take. Wait, is that my own heart? The world seems to be melting from all around me… She's the only one I see. The only thing that matters. I need her…

-Elfie's POV-

You stare back into the soft grey-blue of his eyes that are usually so well concealed. They're wide, with surprise, maybe? You feel butterflies have a rave party in your stomach as he leans down a little closer. Nothing's guiding you. You don't know why you're doing this, but…it feels right. You lean up, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your eyes flutter shut as he leans closer, closing the distance between you. His lips are soft, moving with yours in ways you didn't think possible. You open your mouth a little as he forces his tongue inside, deepening the kiss. Pulling your arms tighter around him, inviting him closer, he gently leans forward so that you're completely on your back. It feels so natural, his lips on yours. The heat blossoming between you. Your breathing coming faster. You can hear his own heartbeat, his own slightly rough breathing. His right hand slides up your left thigh, causing you to shiver. He breaks the contact with your lips, and you open your eyes to meet his again. He's looking at you with a mixture of surprise and lust. You look around towards the doorway, feeling someone's eyes on you. You meet the gaze of Smokey, who is no longer smiling, but instead has an expression of pain across his features. Archer follows your eyes, and too looks at the boy in the doorway. Smokey just shakes his head, and turns and leaves the room. You look back up at Archer and feel guilty, yet you don't know why. You feel as if you've taken something that wasn't yours…but…if that were the case…why did it feel so right?


	7. End of the Cycle

**Here it is! The Long awaited final chapter.**

**If you've read my profile page, you'll know that this may truly be it from me.**

**:(**

**But. I hope you enjoy this.**

**A special thanks to all my readers, (YES, this means YOU, too. :]) and my reviewers.**

**If you truly want me to write more and stay with Ff...well... You're gonna need to convince me.**

**ANYWAY!**

**(:**

**Suggested Music That You Listen To While Reading This:**

**Elfie's POV- Crawl by SuperChick**

**Archer's POV- Why by Secondhand Serenade**

**Elfie's POV (again)- Hello by Evanescence**

**Final Bit (It starts with the word "Suddenly")- How To Save A Life -The Fray**

**Enjoy, (:  
**

You and Archer haven't spoken in weeks, other than strictly business orders. Sometimes he doesn't even come home. You wake up, you hunt, you kill, you eat, you report to Frank, you go home, you sleep. The cycle repeats over and over, and you feel as if it's going to drive you insane. Smokey refuses to even look at you anymore, except to glare when he thinks you're not looking. And if he even talks to you, it's to spit insults. Soon, the ignorance and hate begin to gnaw deeper. You find yourself holding yourself together on the bathroom floor, arms wrapped around your knees, shaking. The cycle repeats…repeats…repeats…

"I can't do this anymore…" you whisper, taking in the sight of your slit open arms. Your racking sobs fill the air again. "YOU PROMISED I WOULDN'T HAVE TO HURT MYSELF ANYMORE!" you scream into the echo-y, steam filled bathroom. Your nostrils filled with the metallic, yet sweet scent of blood, you wail into the silence, feeling more alone than you ever have in your entire life. The salt water that streams down your pale cheeks drips onto the cuts in your arms, causing a sting that only makes you howl louder. A thought of Archer gently kissing each of the scars on your arms invades your mind, and your feel your heart ache and shatter. Falling sideways onto the bathmat, you pull your knees up to your chest in the fetal position. "Someone…please save me…" you whisper into the foggy silence.

-Archer's POV-

I sit on the rooftop of one of the last hotels in the city of Savanna. All the others have caught fire, or were bombed by the military. The wind blows stronger up here, nearly pushing the hood back from my head. I look down at the city below, feeling sick to my stomach. Not from vertigo, for I have an excellent head for heights, but rather my emotions are fighting against each other, battling for control over me. Begging me to make a decision.

I glance up at the darkening sky. A few pink and orange clouds skid towards the horizon as the sun sets. The silence and misery brings thoughts of Elfie into my head. My heart wrenches, causing my stomach to turn over, and I struggle not to toss my dinner over the edge of the hotel's roof. I can't even see the ground anymore. _Maybe a late fog is rolling in?_ I wonder. Then I feel hot splats of water hit my hands before I realize that I'm crying. Once those first tears fall, I cannot stop the flow. My hands ball into fists as I tense, trying to control myself. I give up, giving into the inevitable. I let my sorrow pour from my body. I let it take all my guilt, my pain, my heartache, and let it leak from my eyes. Soon enough, I'm bawling, lying face down on the roof, sniffling and crying. I scream, I sob, I can't stop. As the sun finally sinks into the horizon, I curl into a ball, crying silently now, my eyes burning and red from the salt. I've made my decision.

-Elfie's POV-

You hear a knock on the bathroom door. You open your eyes, and quickly throw a long sleeved shirt on, attempting to hide the cuts. You crawl to the door, feeling weak. You barely make it halfway to the door before it opens. You allow yourself to look up, locking eyes with Smokey as he stands there, wearing a WhiteChapel shirt with black skinny jeans, staring down at you. Tears come to your eyes again, sliding down your cheeks. His expression is not one of anger, as it usually has been. He kneels in front of you, tilting your chin up when you try to look at the floor. He gives you a soft, yet weak smile. "I always knew he would choose you…I'm not mad anymore... I just wanted someone to blame for me not getting what I wanted. It's not your fault, and I've been cruel to you. I guess what I'm trying to say…is that I'm sorry, Elfie." He looks up at the ceiling, gathering his thoughts. "I'm going to leave this place, Elfie. I'm never going to come back. No, no, don't cry. Just listen to me." he says as your tears begin to fall more and more quickly. You bite your lip to still the flow for a moment, and listen to Smokey. "the CEDA have given all intelligent infected a chance to help…We donate ourselves for the cure." Your eyebrows raise in surprise, and before you can object, he shakes his head. "I used to be a nurse you know…I still feel it's my duty to save lives. Infected or not. This is goodbye, Elfie…please…can you do me a favor?" You glance up into his dark green eyes. "Of course…" you whisper, barely able to speak. "Tell Archer that I love him. That I always have loved him…and I always will. Tell him that he was the greatest friend anyone could have ever had. Tell him….t-tell him that I…" Smokey's shoulders began to shake. "T-tell him that I'll never forget him, okay?" Before you can say anything, Smokey turns and walks out of the bathroom, leaving you there in the dark. You hear the front door shut.

Still stunned, you look down at your arms, which have begun to sting again due to the cloth of the shirt rubbing against the cuts. You strip the bloodstained shirt, and feel the sobs choke in your throat as it all sinks in. _Smokey is gone…forever…Harvey…Oh, Harvey…this is all my fault…_

Suddenly you feel as if someone is watching you. You glance up, your eyes red from fresh tears, and your seemingly empty, nearly dead heart flutters at what you see. Archer, who is standing in the doorway of the bathroom, smells the blood instantly before he even sees the cuts. His face turns into one of severe concern, and he kneels and wraps his arms tightly around you. You weep into his hoodie, wrapping your arms around him, not caring that you're staining his hoodie with your blood. You're shocked as his shoulders begin to shake, too. "Oh, Elfie…I love you so much…" he whispers. "I l-love you, t-too, Archer..." you manage to choke out. You cling to him on the bathroom floor for what could have been a second or a century. He then slides your arms off him, examining the cuts. He looks into your eyes, even though you try to cast them down. He doesn't yell. He doesn't shout. He doesn't criticize. He doesn't even speak. He gently, and very carefully, lifts your arm to his lips, kissing each of the bleeding, stinging cuts. You feel your cheeks get hot, and even more tears slide down your cheeks. After he does the same to the other arm's cuts, he takes his index finger and tilts your chin up, bringing his lips to yours softly. Your eyes flutter shut, your cheeks growing hotter. He pulls you closer, and you slip your arms around his waist. He pulls you onto his lap, he leaning against the counter under the sink. He runs his hands through your hair, and you pull away just for a moment, trying to see into his eyes through the shadow of his hoodie. You carefully, and very slowly, pull back his hood. His face is indescribably handsome, causing you to blush a sharp scarlet. His eyes are a light gray-green, staring back at you. His hair is a deep brown, with just a hint of red in it. He smiles, and strokes your reddened cheek. "You're so adorable when you blush." he says, and then kisses you again. You're lost in his arms, feeling warmer and happier than you have in the longest time. "I'll never leave you like that again…" he murmurs against your lips. And you can't help but to have one last tear slip down your cheek, a happy tear, because you know that he means it.


End file.
